Never Should Have Been
by Tripoli
Summary: It was Martin who was supposed to have taken the fall. But reality sometimes isn't as it appears.


Hey guys, back at it again! This one couldn't escape me. Please do read through to the end, as not everything may be as they appear. It's angst with a happy ending?

* * *

"They're called Malayan Flying Lemurs. But they're not really lemurs! They're actually called Colugos."

"So what makes them fly like that?" Martin leaned forward a little closer, trying to get a good look as the small mammal, who Martin had named Glide after they way they soared through the air, shifted and got ready to take off. "Are they more like- _Woah!_ "

Suddenly Martin was shifted as the branch they were standing on started to bend underneath them. Glide was startled from the sudden movement and took off towards a distant tree, but the elder brother only spared a moment's thought for her. As much as he wanted to take off after her, this was more immediate, and Martin suddenly remembered with a sick feeling that he was the only one with the climbing gear. Chris, who was several feet out on the branch, looked back at him with wide eyes, not daring to move.

"Try and shift your weight slowly," Martin ordered, glancing between his brother and the slowly forming bend in the middle of the branch between them. If either of them moved too fast, it was over. Testing his own gear, he took a careful step towards his brother as he reached out to him, not wanting to make any sudden movements. "Be careful bro, I'll come get you."

There was nothing directly above or below to grab onto, which made Martin nervous. Chris was definitely the better of the two when it came to climbing, but it didn't mean shit if there was nothing to climb.

Spreading his feet out to balance his weight, Chris looked back up to his older brother as the branch continued to groan underneath them. "It's still not working," he said. "I'm gonna have to- _Martin help_!"

 _ **SNAP!**_

"Chris!"

Safety forgotten, Martin jumped to the edge of the now broken branch as Chris started to fall with a cry, landing hard on his stomach as he reached out with a desperate hand to catch him. Martin's fingers brushed his brother's, but his hand slipped past his before he had a chance to grab it.

" _CHRIS!_ NO!"

Martin watched in horror as Chris fell fast, his eyes scanning the distance below praying there could be something his brother could grab onto, either a vine or a sturdy branch to slow his fall. This section of the forest, however, was less dense, and as soon as he realized there was nothing along the way for him to catch, Chris hit the ground with a sickening thud.

"CHRIS! Oh _God_ , No... No no no no..."

Martin repeated the word in disbelief as he scaled down the tree as quickly as he could, not even caring about the potential danger he was putting himself in by moving too fast. But that wasn't important at the moment. All that mattered right now was Chris, who was laying frightfully still on the ground below.

" _Chris!_ No no no, please be alive, oh God, please be alive..."

He fumbled to detach the climbing gear with shaking hands, throwing it to the side as it finally came off before stumbling and falling to the ground on his knees next to him. His heart pounding in his ears, he pressed two fingers on the side of his neck, holding his breath for several seconds as he waiting for something, _anything..._ but he felt nothing.

His brother was dead.

" _N-No..._ "

* * *

"Martin..."

Martin pressed his lips together, trying not to start crying again as he started at his distorted reflection on the cracked screen of the broken green creature pod, barely registering the rest of the crew around him. Funny he had already spent most of the day crying already, he thought for sure he'd run out by now.

"We knew how close you guys were. We're sorry..."

"It was an accident. You couldn't have known that was gonna happen."

Sorry couldn't fix anything. Sorry wouldn't bring his baby brother back. Chris was dead now, and it was entirely Martin's fault. After all, it was Martin who had forgotten his climbing gear during their adventure, it was Martin who had to borrow Chris' because it was Martin who was insistent on continuing on anyway.

So why had it been _Chris_ who had taken the fall and broke his neck?

"I know," he whispered. Despite his efforts at keeping it together, Martin felt tears start to roll down his face as let let out a choked sob. "Chris...O-Oh _God_..."

Martin felt someone wrap their arms around his shoulder in a hug, but he didn't register who it was. Right now he felt like he wanted to scream; his stomach was twisted in a tight knot and his heart felt like it was constricting his throat. He hadn't even bothered to change, still wearing the blood and dirt stained clothes from this morning.

"We're a team," Aviva said. Martin realized she was the one hugging him, but it didn't make him feel any better. "A family. I know it's tough right now, but we'll get though this together."

"You've been though a lot today, Martin," Koki added, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I know it must be rough losing Chris like this but we're here for you. We'll take care of the funeral for you."

But Martin only shook his head at her offer. Because _he_ was the reason Chris was dead, he was the one who had to do this. "No, no I can plan it," he insisted as he wiped the tears away with his sleeve, shaking his head again when Koki opened her mouth to protest. "Really, it's okay. He's my brother, and I'm the one who knows what Chris would've wanted anyway. I want to do it. For Chris."

 _I'm the reason he's dead_. But the crew didn't need to be bothered by his burdens.

"O...Okay," Koki finally said, but still gave him a concerned look. "Well we'll be right here with you the whole time. If you need help planning it or with anything at all, please ask. Like Aviva said, we're a family."

Planning a funeral. Where the hell would he even start with all of this? Everything was so overwhelming and out of control, he was starting to feel dizzy. Earlier time had felt like it had gone to a complete stop, and now it was moving too fast.

Martin had only been to a funeral once, when he was five and Chris was two and a half. It was for a distant great relative, one he had never met but their parents still attended out of family obligation. All Martin really remembered from it was the stiff and uncomfortable suit he had to wear, feeling sightly uncomfortable at his parents' seriousness, and the family next to them crying which made Chris cry for the entire duration.

The brothers had often joked about what they would do at the other's funeral, but it was never serious. Chris swore he was going to play that one song from high school Martin absolutely hated on repeat, and Martin had a whole _pile_ of embarrassing pictures of Chris from their childhood he was going to show. Those, however, had been late night jokes when they couldn't sleep; one of them dying and actually planning the funeral had been the furthest things in their mind. Now Martin clung to those pictures along with the rest of his stuff, as that was all he had left of his brother.

But now Martin was alone and planning the damn thing fifty years before it was supposed to happen.

Martin had already called their ( _his_ , he had to keep correcting himself) parents to break the news to them a few hours ago, which had been one of the worst phone calls he had ever had to make. It was the first time he had ever heard his mother cry, and it only made him feel worse that he was the reason for it. They were flying in tomorrow from New Jersey to California, which had been the closest place in the mainland United States from Malaysia after their emergency flight out of there.

He especially didn't want to put the funeral burden on them; he imagined it was already difficult enough for them to have to bury their youngest child.

"I made everyone some soup," Jimmy said, popping into the main room from the kitchen. "I thought you'd be hungry. It's minestrone."

"C'mon, you really should eat something," Koki said, before Martin felt the girls tugging him up out of his chair. "You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry," Martin murmured as he was led to the kitchen. Not that he didn't appreciate Jimmy's effort, he really did, but his stomach felt too knotted to want to eat. He had thrown up his breakfast this morning after dealing with the aftermath, and he felt almost nauseous at the prospect of eating. "Really guys, I'm not hungry right now. I'll eat later."

"You're going to make yourself sick if you don't," Koki warned.

Despite his protests, he was sat down in a chair at the table, a bowl of soup placed in front of him. The soup normally would've smelled delicious, but right now it just made his stomach feel worse. Instead, he took to watching the rest of the crew as they got their own bowls and sat down around him.

Looking down again at his meal, Martin suddenly wanted to laugh at Jimmy's choice of dinner. Chris _hated_ Minestrone soup, and how fitting was it that it was the first meal made after he was gone. He remembered visiting their grandmother often growing up, who always made the soup for them, much to Chris' dismay. First Chris would get in trouble for skipping dinner, then Martin would get in trouble after sneaking him dessert.

Feeling the familiar prick of tears at the back of his eyes, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing evenly. God, he couldn't stop thinking about Chris. Not when almost every single thing kept reminding him that he wasn't coming back.

"Martin? You okay?" Aviva asked.

 _No, he wasn't._ "I... I can't e-eat this," Martin said, his voice cracking as he pushed the bowl away from him, causing some soup to spill out. _I can't_ do _this._ The three protested as Martin stood up and left, but he ignored them.

* * *

Martin jumped with a start, breathing fast and heavy as the Malaysian rain forest had turned into the dark room of their ( _his_ ) room in the Tortuga. Placing a hand against his racing heart as he willed it to calm down, he closed his eyes to calm himself.

Just a dream. Or a flashback, more like, as yesterday's events quickly came back still raw and painful in his mind. Honestly, Martin was surprised he had even managed to fall asleep in the first place; he hadn't even realized he had at first. After leaving the crew and the table at dinner, he had gone to lay down and get away from the suffocating feeling for a few hours. Despite feeling mentally exhausted, he had tossed and turned for several hours, unable to turn his mind off.

Checking his creature pod, he sighed when he saw the time. 3:32 AM. Martin doubted he even slept for two hours.

If anything, sleeping had only made him feel worse. His head and nose were stuffed up from crying almost the entire day, giving him a slight headache, and his stomach only felt tighter and more achy. Maybe he should have listened and taken up the crew's offer of eating something, even though he knew he still probably would've just thrown it back up.

Shifting onto his back, Martin debated whether to try and go back to sleep or not. Being in here now felt too foreign to him, as if he was at a sleepover at a childhood friend's house for the first time.

The room was entirely too quiet. Having grown up sharing a room with his younger brother most of his life, Martin had grown accustomed to sleeping with noise throughout the night. Chris only really snored when he was sick or really tired, unlike Martin who snored all night long despite still denying it, but he was someone who never kept still in his sleep.

Reaching up, Martin swatted at the green fabric of the hammock above him, same as what he used to do, but instead of hearing Chris' usual annoyed voice telling him to stop it and let him sleep in peace for once, the empty hammock swung until it stopped.

Stopped. Like his brother's life.

Less than twenty-four hours ago Chris was sleeping above him, and now he was gone. Time of death 8:37 AM. It wasn't officially called until they got to California at 2:52 PM, but Martin would always remember the real time. Funny, now Martin remembered the small insignificant details; Chris used to chide him for not paying attention to them in the past.

"C-Chris..." This time Martin couldn't stop the tears that fell ran down his face, pulling Chris' green blanket he had slept with around him as he started to uncontrollably sob. "'M sorry, 'm sorry..."

How the hell was he supposed to go on without him? What was the Wild Kratts without the Kratt brothers? Chris was his brother, his best friend. They were a team, they had been planning this career ever since they were kids. Now all of that was ripped away from him all because Martin had forgotten his climbing gear, _again_ , and Chris had given him his when he needed it the most.

Burying his head into the blanket, he let out a wail of grief, repeating his brother's name as he continued to sob, fingers gripping and pulling at the fabric of the blanket in anguish. He was the one who was supposed to protect Chris, yet it was Martin's fault he was dead.

It was Martin who was supposed to have taken that fall.

And what made it worse was that Martin didn't even have a chance to say goodbye. Chris' last words spoken would always be him crying out to him for help, and that would haunt the elder brother for the rest of his life. If he had just tried harder, been a little quicker, he would've been able to grab his hand and stop his little brother from falling.

What Martin wouldn't give just to have five more minutes to hug the guts out of him and tell him how sorry he was and that he loved him.

Now he just felt empty, as if someone had reached into his chest and pulled a large chunk of his heart out, but left enough to keeping it beating and alive. Jimmy had told him grief gets easier over time, but Martin felt like he was being eaten alive.

How would _this_ get any easier?

How could he even _survive_ this to get to the so-called easy part?

Feeling the room start to spin, Martin closed his eyes to settle himself. He must've been crying too hard, not getting enough air and was making himself dizzy. Taking several deep breaths, he willed himself to calm down, but he was only feeling worse. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he wanted to throw up despite an empty stomach. The room was starting to feel hot and uncomfortable, making him want to leave.

" _Martin? Are you okay? Wake up!"_

Wait, when did Jimmy come into the room? While Martin figured he was probably being loud enough to wake Koki and Aviva, Jimmy slept through anything. He didn't even hear him open the door or walk in. And why was his head _pounding_?

"Can you hear me? Wake up Martin! Open your eyes!"

It was starting to get annoying, and it was making his head hurt worse. Martin turned in his hammock to tell Jimmy to go away and leave him alone, but he found himself paralyzed, unable to even open his eyes.

"Damn it come _on_!"

That wasn't Jimmy. A wave of nausea overcame him as his head started spinning. What was wrong with him? Was it because he skipped dinner yesterday? He had gone longer without eating before and he hadn't felt this bad. Nor did he feel this bad a few minutes ago. And why was the voice calling out to him so frighteningly familiar?

Suddenly everything felt like it shifted, and he felt like he had been hit by a freight train. Martin was no longer swinging lightly in a hammock in the dark Tortuga, but felt himself supported in someone's arms. His head was pounding even more, and his stomach was still knotted, but a sudden warmth of the hot sun on his face made him feel sickly on top of it.

Feeling something patting his face, Martin blearily opened his eyes and saw, to his utter amazement, Chris, looking very concerned and very much alive.

"Martin, are you okay bro?"


End file.
